


The Stars Look Very Different Today

by Ember Nickel (primeideal)



Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-29
Updated: 2012-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-30 07:41:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primeideal/pseuds/Ember%20Nickel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tell them I died in battle. Let them remember me the way I used to be, okay? I don't want them to remember me like this. Originally written November 2009.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Stars Look Very Different Today

His name was Elfangor-Sirinial-Shamtul. His title, these days, was warrior. And his legend was growing exponentially.

It was not too hard to reconcile him with the  _aristh_  about whom I'd heard snippets. Too serious for his own good, proud but not unusually so, "the sort the Electorate wants".

After being lost in space for years, what had he done? Return to the homeworld? Eventually, yes. But not before trying to get himself killed like a hero.

Still, I could not resent him. If I didn't care about what he had done, I could acknowledge what he meant. If  _he_  could survive, anyone could. Anyone who had been missing "only" that long, anyway.

And now, there he was, ready to take off again. But not before visiting me.

I had no idea how many communications he must have been inundated with; I expect there were quite a few. Certainly too many to visit everyone who wanted to adore him. Probably too many even to meaningfully sort through. But he had found me, he had sought me out.

I was surprised that he had visited my scoop, but I supposed it made sense. He was too famous at the moment to meet in a park. But he was clearly nervous, too.

<Feel free to graze,> I suggested conversationally. I'd thought I'd gotten used to life, but every once in a while, the scoop would feel too big. The warrior's large hooves would help combat that.

<I'm not hungry.>

<As you wish.> I tried to be polite as my frustration built up; I'd waited years, and now he was trapped behind a wall of silence. <Thank you for coming all the way here.>

<You are welcome. It was the least I could do.>

<The least? As long as you are here, perhaps you can do a little more for me.>

<How so?> he asked courteously, knowing perfectly well.

<Tell me what happened, Warrior; I am strong enough for any truth.>

<Any truth.> He paced, seeming to graze. <I envy your strength.>

<And I your knowledge. Perhaps we can both assist each other.>

His stalk eyes seemed to sag; there was nothing for him to see in my overlarge scoop that was as interesting as whatever memory flashed through his mind. <We were posted on the  _StarSword_ , as you know, and it came across a Skrit Na raider. After we captured it, Arbron began searching through the computer files. He was a brilliant exo-datologist, really, the best of us all.>

<There's no need to flatter him.>

<You wanted truth, and that is it. Arbron realized that the Skrit Na had possession of a weapon that they might sell to the Yeerks. We needed to stop them before they had the opportunity.>

<And how did you stop them?>

<There was a battle. We were outnumbered—but no, first—> The memories seemed to wave in and out of order, as if he was clearly trying to concoct some comforting fiction. <We pursued the Skrit Na to a Yeerk-controlled planet. Arbron had to shoot down three Bug fighters in atmosphere.>

A Bug fighter, I knew, was some sort of Yeerk ship. I had no idea how they operated in atmosphere, nor how impressive it was that Arbron had shot three of them. By Elfangor's desperate stammer, however, it was clearly an achievement. <And did he?>

<Yes. It helped even the odds, though not completely. Then we fought tail and blade, down on the planet's surface. It was all I could do to escape, and keep the weapon out of Yeerk hands. It was just luck—it could have been any of us.>

<And Arbron?> It was silly of me to ask. If Elfangor knew any more than the assumptions I'd been living with for years, he would have been glad to tell me as soon as we met.

<The battle was chaos. I did not see him fall, but...our prince told me, afterwards, that he would make Arbron  _hirad shelbirn_  at the first chance. He never got a chance, but if I am fortunate, someday I will have that power. And I swear I will do so.>

There were reports of  _hirad alsinar_  every so often, posthumous princes. It was a fine enough way, I supposed, to honor heroes and inspire little fools to be like them without having to redistribute any real power. But posthumous warriors? Though I was sure Arbron would have eventually deserved the title, it felt like a cheap way for the Electorate to wash itself of  _arisths'_  blood. <There is no rush in earning promotion for power's sake, Elfangor. Those who matter know he was a hero.>

His eyes shone weakly. It was not an  _aristh_ 's face. <You are right. I was lucky to survive; I will not push my luck.>

<I suppose I should not keep you too much longer.>

<There is no rush, as you said. I will remain on the planet for several more days.>

<And then?>

He swung his stalks from side to side. <Return to combat.>

Of course. <May the starlight always warm you.>

<Until the moon's peace endures,> he responded ceremonially. Then he turned, walking stiffly away.

As he reached the boundaries of the scoop, I could not help myself. It was not for my rationalization, in the end, so much as his. <Elfangor? Excuse me, Warrior Elfangor?>

<Just Elfangor is fine.>

<I am not sure how many policy changes you have learned of since returning, but there is less secrecy surrounding the morphing technology than in the past.>

<The morphing technology?> he turned to answer, sternness meeting unease in his tone.

<Yes. You were equipped with it as an  _aristh_ , correct?>

<Indeed.>

<And Arbron as well?>

<Why do you ask? He was, of course.>

<My son was no coward, but I know if I was in battle, I would be tempted to morph and escape. If you did not see him fall, perhaps...perhaps he might have survived, even without your prince's knowledge.>

Elfangor paused before responding. <Perhaps he may have, yes. I dearly hope that he did. But it would be imprudent to try and regain contact.>

<I understand. I only meant that you need not lose hope for him.>

<It must be agonizing, to live with the wondering.>

<Not so agonizing as what he would have gone through otherwise.>

Elfangor appeared to search for an answer before admitting, <That is true. I am glad I had the chance to talk with you.>

I was not sure how much of his story to believe, but I did believe that. <And I you.>

  
  
  



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